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User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 99
Previous Chapters 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, 32nd, 33rd, 34th, 35th, 36th, 37th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 41st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, 45th, 46th, 47th, 48th, 49th, 50th, 51st, 52nd, 53rd, 54th, 55th, 56th, 57th, 58th, 59th, 60th, 61st, 62nd, 63rd, 64th, 65th, 66th, 67th, 68th, 69th, 70th, 71st, 72nd, 73rd, 74th, 75th, 76th, 77th, 78th, 79th, 80th, 81st, 82nd, 83rd, 84th, 85th, 86th, 87th, 88th, 89th, 90th, 91st, 92nd, 93rd, 94th, 95th, 96th, 97th, 98th The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 99 4th Era 171, 7th of Second Seed, Abecean Sea When, against all that he knew, he agreed to go with the mysterious Maormer, the man had reached forward and grasped thin air and lifted him up, as if he weighed nothing. Then, an order to keep his "thoughts as light as possible," lest something happen. Of course, such a warning - and all the events leading up to it - was anything but light and airy, and he still didn't trust him. Mustering courage, he asked why his thoughts had to be that way. The Maormer cocked an eyebrow. "It makes it easier for me mid-transit. The darker and more frustrated you are, the more you'll fidgit, and this will distract me." Both eyebrows went down in a frown. "Do you want to end up in the middle of this thing, or somewhere out in the ocean, because you distracted me?" His eyes popped wide. "No!" he exclaimed, even more frightened. "Then heed me." Taking a deep, shaky breath, he conjured up memories of Curwe. He had no other "light" thoughts, as sad as that was. He remembered her kindness and laughter. Her smile. He felt himself relaxing, just as there was a bright flash. * * * He was on the wooden deck of a ship...which seemed oddly familiar. He appeared with the Maormer in a bright, white flash, a mirror to the one he'd seen just moments before. He looked around as he was set down by the Elf. There was a crew scurrying around, and, although the deck was wet and the clothes of the crew were in a similar state, no water fell upon him, even the spray of the waves outside and that the rain had just started as he'd been evacuated from his house. He glanced up, pondering over this anomaly. He'd seen purple flashes that didn't seem to be lightning, because they were too close overhead and weren't as bright. Peering closer, he saw that raindrops and waves crashed against an invisible wall of some sort. He then realized that the whole ship was warded. Even one of his limited magical knowledge knew that to ward an entire ship - much less one of this size - took a great deal of power. He heard footsteps coming up from the side. He faced them. One of the crew approached him, curiosity all over his face. The man gave him a cursory inspection, like he'd never seen someone like him before; like he was someone who maybe had the ability to save them. Curiosity and wonder settled in his expression. "So," he began, absently pulling on a gold loop in one ear. "You're the one we're supposed to be savin'. You look ordinary enough to me. I thought with all the hoopla that we'd be savin' a priest or some sort of government official." Akadil straightened his clothing self-conciously. "So," the man continued, his voice sounding like he'd taken too many deep draughts of heavy smoke, "Are you a priest? Or in the government?" "I...uh," he began, hesitating, glancing around at the gathering crew. Practically everyone was gathered around him, oggling him like he was a rare item on display in a museum...or a unique creature in a zoo. "I'm a lawyer by trade. I have nothing to do with government or religious matters. I...I deal with property...and property rights." "Like land?" one man asked, his wet hair hanging in strings from his head. "Yes," he replied, wondering how such hard-looking men could be so full of childlike curiosity...and where this line of questioning could be going. "And houses, personal belongings, that sort of thing." "You're gonna be in extra demand after this all blows over," someone said, gesturing to the storm beyond the ward. "Perhaps so." was all he could muster, thinking about his own home. It was likely destroyed beyond repair, and his belongings scattered over miles, just like everyone else's. He was just about to ask about the ward - and what powered it, as none of the crew seemed like mages - when he caught sight of a large, dark stain off to the side. The crew members seemed like they didn't want to stand on it, as they stood around, not on, it. It looked to be recently scrubbed, like someone was trying to get rid of it, but failed. At that moment, a giant bolt of lightning arched overhead, and, in its light, he saw, to his horror in that bluish flash, that the stain in question was crimson, the color of blood. Someone had been killed on deck, his brain screamed as his eyes popped at the sight. And recent, too. Probably today. The stain appeared like it had been cleaned just today, too. Now that he was painfully aware of it, he could also detect a small, faint odor of soap, and it didn't seem to be coming from the crew. As he stared in horror at the bloodstain - now that he'd seen it, he couldn't seem to look anywhere else - he realized that the stain was large enough to be nearly a whole body's worth of blood. Someone had been viciously murdered here. The crew noticed his unease right away, as they were all staring at him in the first place. They pressed their lips together like they were trying to seal in secrets. Akadil felt the presence of the Maormer behind him, the crew surrounding him, and now heard, with sickly beatings of his heart, booted feet approaching from off to the side. Someone was coming, someone who was not part of the crew. Tearing his eyes from the stain, he glanced as discretely as possible at the ward around them. It apparently was a good, solid one, and if it could stop giant tidal waves from crashing on the ship, it could surely stop him from jumping overboard and escaping. The booted feet continued to come closer. He was surrounded. They were going to kill him, he knew. He felt his panic rising to match the size of the waves outside. A tiny voice in the back of his mind said he was jumping to conclusions, but it was quicky and forcefully drowned out by his fear, already so high by this storm, the mysterious Sea Elf, and now by the bloodstain. His tongue cleaved to the top of his mouth, and his heart was in his throat, like it would leave the confines of his body and fly off into space, trying to flee this scene of terror. He knew he had not a chance. He was not a fighter in the least sense of the word. He was going to die today. Category:Blog posts